


What is your inspiration?

by call_it_a_miracle



Series: DeanCas Bingo [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Actual husbands husbanding, Alternate Universe, Artist Dean Winchester, Dean finds himself, M/M, Writer Castiel, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 20:47:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15518274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/call_it_a_miracle/pseuds/call_it_a_miracle
Summary: Prompt: Artist AUDean finds his inspiration.





	What is your inspiration?

“What is your inspiration?” 

As an artist, Dean Winchester gets asked that a lot. People look at his work and can’t help but wonder, where did this come from? And honestly, most days not even Dean himself can understand what story he’s trying to tell. 

Now, Dean isn’t a man of words. Never has been, never will, so answering these kinds of questions always gets tricky.

He knows what people expect him to say. 

“My family” he blurts out during his first important showing at the local gallery. He’s only 17 years old, which brings a couple of curious reporters to crowd over him. It’s the first time he’s ever been interviewed and he’s more than nervous, but still manages to give a somewhat descent answer. 

Family has always been the most important thing to him. 

He tells the story of his close family. His parents, Mary and John Winchester weren’t very supportive at the start of his career, claiming that art would take him nowhere. They recognized his talent but insisted on keeping it a hobby, so he could go to college and become a mechanic like his father. Sam was way more understanding, always eager to see whatever piece Dean was currently working on. 

“Don’t listen to them” the little kid would say, eyes opened wide as he looked up to his big brother. “They don’t understand” 

“My family” he says, once again, at the inauguration of his first big college exhibition.

The moment he told his parents he’d gotten a scholarship for his dream art school had been terrifying. John’s ice-cold stare burned through him as Mary read the letter out loud. Sam stood by his side the whole time. The silence that followed his mom’s final words was overwhelming, but then the unexpected happened. 

John Winchester, ex-marine and generally not a feelings person, reached over to his eldest son and wrapped his arms around him. Dean stood there, completely frozen. His eyes landed on his mother, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. 

“I am so proud of you, son” 

The whole art collection had been based in that single moment of happiness. 

“My family” he repeats, a couple years later. This time, he talks about his newfound extended family.

Charlie Bradbury has been his best friend since forever. People would tease them, claiming they were a little too close to _just_ be best friends, but of course they laughed it off. He based some of his biggest projects on the shenanigans they got themselves into, including amazing sketches for LARPing scenarios. 

Benny came as a close second. They had met a little later in life, but a spark ignited between them from the very start. A few weeks after they met they started dating, becoming each other’s first boyfriend. Still, they only lasted for a few months before cutting it off, happy to remain as best friends. After all, it hadn’t been _that_ kind of spark. 

Those two inspired him in ways he never even thought of. Art had always seemed like something serious, full of dark emotions lurking in the background of the greatest masterpieces in history. But thanks to Benny and Charlie, he found a light, happiness, to fill in those dark blanks. 

“My family” Dean says, frustration behind his words. 

He has been devoting his free time to dating. Cassie had been nice, but ultimately unsupportive of his art. Ketch had been a fun spurt of the moment thing but eventually it faded into nothing. Then, he fell for Lisa. Hard. But she would constantly complain about him not paying enough attention to her and ultimately Sam convinced him to break it off. At a party, he met Anna. She was kind, and understanding, but Dean could still feel something missing. 

He worried about feeling like this for the rest of his life. 

There was something missing in his art. The dark spaces he’s filled with light had started to become dull. He’d spent countless hours studying works dedicated to love, tried to recreate the passion in countless of sculptures and paintings but he always knew he was missing something. The experience of all-consuming, passionate love shared between two people. 

He looked at Anna and wondered if he’d ever feel something remotely similar towards her. 

That’s when he met her younger brother, Castiel. 

He was shy, and smart, and the moment those blue eyes connected with green, Dean was completely and utterly gone. 

Anna had been very understanding, bless her heart, and to this day remains his favourite sister in law. Not that he would ever say that in front of Hannah and Dumah. 

Their relationship took off like fireworks. Feelings he didn’t even knew existed washed over Dean’s chest. His art evolved from technique to experience and suddenly he found that piece of himself.

Art wasn’t just about telling stories anymore, but to show people these new things he felt, get them off his chest in firm brush strokes and sharp edges. 

He finally understood why visual expression appealed to him so much. Dean Winchester isn’t a man of words, he’s a man of actions. 

Which is a perfect match for his now husband, best seller writer Castiel Winchester. The man could spend hours reciting poetry about the bees in their garden, or the way the sun fell on Dean’s green eyes framed perfectly by golden freckles on a Tuesday afternoon. 

With every breath he takes, Castiel feeds Dean’s passion. With every word he says, thousands of stories course through his veins and into his fingertips. The mere existence of his is enough to fill the void in him. 

Together they create art. Castiel would breathe eloquent rhymes into Dean’s skin. Dean’s fingertips would trace colourful strokes in Castiel’s. Their bodies dance across paper and leave behind a work of art so uniquely _them_. 

“What is your inspiration?” A French reporter asks Dean. They’re standing by the Eiffel tower, one hand holding a glass of champagne while the other laid leisurely on his husband’s lower back. 

“Love”


End file.
